Paid in Smiles
by An Preson Peepul
Summary: She and the kid, they aren't too different. That's probably why she helps him: so he won't break in the end, like she did.


**What happened to all those fics with Samus and Pikachu as friends? Those were really popular back in the days of Brawl and early Smash 4, and no one every writes that dynamic anymore. Some of those were pretty fun.**

**Personally, I like writing happy stuff. Tragic stories leave a bitter taste in my mouth.**

**So why did I write this?**

**I was bored. We all do weird things when we're bored. Don't try to deny it.**

* * *

Samus doesn't think she's felt like this since... as long as she could remember. Her parents, her real ones, are faceless figures spawned from the depths of her mind. Her Chozo caretakers, they had all disappeared, so she had never witnessed their deaths.

This, though. This is different.

This is different because she no longer had the excuse of being too young to remember. This is different because she wasn't on some distant planet, dreaming of soaring through space as the tragedy unfolded.

This is different because this time, it is happening right before her, and she has no one to blame but herself.

She had thought the baby Metroid had died. She heard its screams, seen its blood on the walls. She hadn't seen a body, but she instantly assumed the worst. Driven by vengeful spirit, she scoured the halls, searching for Mother Brain, the one responsible.

She thought she knew better than to let her emotions get the better of her. A merchant of death, she thought she'd have been desensitized to it.

And now, the baby Metroid lies dying at her feet. There can be no doubt about its fate now.

It feels wrong, breaking so easily. As a bounty hunter, one might think she would be apathetic to the dead. She knows herself to be.

And yet, seeing her baby, crying on the floor as its blood spills out onto the floor; she breaks.

She doesn't think she ever wants to have to sweep the pieces together ever again.

* * *

It's been months. The capital's medical center has become a familiar sight for her, as much as she wishes it wasn't. She spends her weekends here, at the therapy clinic. Each time she comes in, she comes in hoping that they might finally give in and let her forget.

Each time she leaves with the memory of the baby Metroid's death fresh in her mind.

Survivor's guilt, they call her condition. They could have called it "Slow and Painful" for all she cares. She doesn't want a face to the demon, she wants a cure.

She comes here often. The front doors are ingrained in her mind, and she can recall what the entrance looks like down to the smallest detail.

And as far as she can remember, he isn't one of them.

She asks about him later. "Who's the kid?"

Her doctor, Mario, gives her a look over the top of his clipboard. "You're doing it again."

"Hm?" Samus blinks, confused.

Mario just sighs. "Changing the topic. I ain't gonna be able to help you if you keep changing the pipes every time I try to fix it."

Samus opens her mouth, then she closes it.

"Now, as I was saying–"

"I truly am curious, though."

Mario's pen taps the top of the clipboard. He shifts it a little, before his eyes land back on her. "You ain't gonna let this go until you've had your fill, ain't you?"

Samus stares at him, her gaze unmoving. Again, Mario sighs, but he puts his clipboard off to the side.

"His name's Pichu. A real bright kid, shows up every three days asking the same questions about his daddy."

"What is wrong with his father, then?"

"He's been MIA for almost three years now. Frankly, we all think he's dead, but the kid won't believe what we tell him. He insists that his dad's just missing, even though the Federation stopped searching for him a while back. A shame people can just disappear off the streets and never be found, but that's just the world we live in. Took me a while to accept that. Just hope the kid doesn't die before he accepts it too."

"I see," Samus says, nodding her head.

She doesn't remember much from the rest of the session. They never stand out to her, blurring into each other until she's left with a soup of nice words and conversations that just feel out of place to her. The hour flies by, and as she leaves Doctor Mario's office behind, she's worried Pichu might have left.

He's still there when she exits the building. Against her better judgment, she approaches him. When he sees her coming, he looks confused. He doesn't run away though.

She decides to get to the point.

"You're looking for your father," she says.

Pichu regards her for a moment before he gives her a stubborn pout and replies, "He's not dead! I won't believe you!"

"That's not what I wanted to talk about."

His eyes widen at that. He has an innocent look to his eyes, one that says he has yet to see the world rear its ugly head. Beneath that, however, is a determination, a feeling she is all too familiar with, and a feeling she misses. And now, right next to that determination, she sees hope.

"You... you believe me?" he says, his pitch rising in awe. There's no doubt in his words; he instantly accepts it.

She gives him a smile she hopes looks reassuring. She hasn't worked with civilians since her Federation days.

"Better to assume the best than to assume the worst." Assumptions are dangerous. She knows this all too well.

For the longest time, the kid just stares up at her. He watches her intently like a distant observer. Then, without warning, he wraps his arms around her legs in an embrace.

No part of being broken is great. The break itself feels like taking a bullet to the stomach. The pieces pierce through skin when picked up, almost like they want to stay on the floor forever. The fixing in a slow and painful process.

If she saves this kid from ever having to go through it, she'd happily consider it a job well done.

_For his sake, you'd better be alive,_ she whispers to the heavens.

* * *

Somehow they end up in the Federation Database.

She prefers not to dwell on it, but the bits that stick around in her mind are the fact that the way inside involved a bit of bribery, racking through her mind for passwords she hasn't used in years, and a goldfish.

And now Anthony, one of her old colleagues, is watching on as Pichu searched through the database for his father, with her standing guard in between them.

"You know, you always struck me as the altruistic type back when we worked together," Anthony says, giving her a strange look. "Altruistic and dead-set in your ways."

She gives him a raised eyebrow in return. "And?"

"That was ages ago. You work for pay now." Anthony crosses his arms and frowns. "Why change back now? You don't change your mind easily."

Samus shrugs. "I'm not heartless enough to turn away a child in need."

"Are you now?" Anthony sounds like he doesn't believe her.

She doesn't blame him. Bounty hunters have quite the reputation across the galaxy. She has made a reputation for herself as well, though, so she couldn't quite pin the blame entirely on the other bounty hunters.

"What are you getting out of this?" he adds.

Pichu is within earshot, so she makes sure to choose her words carefully.

"He's a good kid. It wouldn't be fair if I let the world drag him down like it did to me, would it?"

To her surprise, she means those words. Anthony still looks skeptical, though. He opens his mouth, and Samus expects a disbelieving retort.

Pichu cuts him off.

"No..."

They both turn to him. A horrified expression is on his face. A nauseous feeling rises up in Samus's stomach.

"This... this can't be true," Pichu says. "It just can't be. He can't really be..." Pichu shakes his head, and he stands up. "I have to see for myself."

Samus gets the feeling that she's made a mistake. She steps forward, hoping to stop whatever comes next. He takes off before she reaches him, bolting away with surprising speed, and when the door slams shut behind him, she is left along with Anthony.

She looks over at the screen. It reads:

Pikachu: deceased. Body found at 4514 Siph Road.

Anthony curses. At her confused expression, he says, "That's where we've managed to pin down a gang who call themselves Team Rocket. We were going to raid the place tomorrow."

Samus winces. "They'll kill him, won't they?"

"You don't need me to tell you."

Panic rises in Samus's chest. Emotions take to her like Metroids to blood. She can't lose another one, not like this.

"You'll have to call the raid in a day early," she shouts, old military habits snapping into place. "I'll go ahead and make sure the kid doesn't get shot."

She doesn't wait for his reply before she breaks for the exit. She hopes she won't be too late. He's fast, though, much faster than her. And she's been letting her strength slip away.

She doesn't think she'll make it.

* * *

Samus doesn't think she's felt like this since that fateful day on Zebes. She's killed before, and yet two deaths within the span of a few months are enough to sicken her.

She didn't even have time to take it all in. All she saw was a man pointing a gun down at Pichu. She tackled him in hopes of disarming the man before he had a chance to pull the trigger, but she was too late to stop him.

And now, here she is bleeding out on the floor.

As the man falls unconscious in front of her, a bloodstain on the pipe above, Samus stares at the gaping hole in her stomach. Around her, the Team Rocket grunts glance between themselves, unsure of what to do.

That problem is solved for them. Behind her, she hears the doors burst open. The Federation soldiers run past her, and the sound of gunfire takes to the air.

She isn't focused on that, though. The pain from her stomach is immense, but when she looks up at Pichu, she realizes that pain is nothing compared to the look he is giving her.

His eyes are wide with horror. When she sees this, her heart bursts. She recognizes the look; it's a look she has worn herself.

She has broken him. She has failed.


End file.
